Exorcising Demons
by Agent M
Summary: A hostage situation at the hospital, a renegade agent and an unhappy ending.  First time so please go easy.  Was written after only seeing snippets of season 4. Forgive any inaccuracies. Feel free to review and advise. Complete story.


Disclaimer: The usual...I don't own the characters, was just inspired by them.

Rating: not sure what to put, some bad language but not a lot and does involve character angst and death..sorry

First time...not sure if I did it right...I'm sure someone will let me know!

**Exorcising Demons**

A knot formed in his stomach at the words he was hearing from the reporter on the TV screen behind him. "_Police cars are still arriving at the scene. It looks like we have a siege situation here at Monroe University hospital_." Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, leaped up out of his seat. He had already grabbed his gun from the drawer in his desk and was swiftly heading towards the closed elevator doors. Upon hearing the same report, Mossad Officer, Ziva David, who had been sitting opposite Tony's desk, immediately stood up. From her position she couldn't move quickly enough to step into Tony's path, so she reached out her arm to try to stop him. "Tony!" she shouted, but in vain. Tony's eyes were firmly fixed on the elevator doors which seemed to be taking an infuriatingly long time to open. He muttered to himself, "C'mon dammit!" With an audible ping, the doors opened and Tony stormed into the car like a man possessed, almost knocking over his boss in the process.

"DiNozzo! What the hell you think you're doing?" yelled Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs as the younger agent pushed past him and frantically hammered at the buttons to close the doors again.

"Sorry, boss. Gotta go! Family emergency!"

Gibbs barely had time to register the quick fire answers before the doors pinged shut, leaving him staring in disbelief. As he turned he was greeted by the sight of Ziva rushing towards him, carrying her gear. "What the hell is goin' on here?" Gibbs demanded.

"We have to stop Tony from doing something stupid." Ziva tried to explain as she too began frantically pushing the button to call the elevator.

"So_ what_ _else_ is new?" retorted Gibbs sardonically.

"Not funny, Gibbs." Ziva had a very serious look on her face. "There's a siege at the University hospital." That was all she needed to say. Gibbs spun back around and slammed his finger against the elevator button. Now he realised the sense of urgency. It had only been a matter of months but Gibbs had sensed that the relationship Tony had formed with a certain doctor at the hospital was something special. This was new territory for DiNozzo. It was usually hard for Gibbs to keep up with the revolving door of Tony's love life, but this time it was different; Gibbs got the feeling that Tony was actually in love. He slammed his hand against the lit button, willing the elevator doors to open. "C'mon dammit! _Open_!" There was a ping and he and Ziva rushed inside.

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Tony could barely keep his eyes on the road. He had his cell phone in his hand, Jeanne's number on the display. He had an overwhelming urge to call her to make sure she was safe, but the knot in his stomach was telling him that he shouldn't because it might put her in further danger, especially if she was being held hostage. He stared at her name on the screen. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever come across, and he'd seen plenty in his time. Somehow this woman had managed to stop him dead in his tracks. From the moment that he saw her he'd sensed how special she was and, although it scared the hell out of him, being the commitment-phobe that he was, he couldn't imagine being without her. A loud car horn brought his attention back to the road as he realised he was drifting into oncoming traffic. He snapped the wheel back and pushed his foot down on the accelerator.

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Pretty much the same was happening a few miles behind him, except it was Gibbs who was behind the wheel. Ziva had her hands pinned to the roof of the car trying to steady herself, "And your driving is different to mine, _how _exactly?" she was asking. She had been the butt of many a driving joke on account of the fact that the first time she had driven the truck back from a crime scene, she had almost killed the entire team. Gibbs seemed to ignore the question.

"Just what the hell does DiNozzo think he's gonna do, anyway?" he shouted. It was more of a rhetorical question really. Gibbs already knew the answer. The love of Tony's life was in danger. If it had been Shannon, hell, he'd be doing the same thing himself.

"I think he's going to go in all guns flaming," answered Ziva, not realising that Gibbs had already answered the question in his own head.

"Blazing," corrected Gibbs.

"What?"

"It's 'guns blazing'" he explained.

"Oh," she wasn't sure she was ever going to get to grips with the idioms they used.

The very thought of Tony charging in seriously concerned Gibbs. He pressed down on the accelerator, weaving expertly through the traffic.

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The area had been completed sealed off. Tony flashed his ID and badge at every cop he could see so that they would let him through. He pulled up to an abrupt halt and stepped out of the car. He made his way to what looked like the Command Post where he could find out what was going on.

He flashed his ID. The detective didn't seem surprised to find an NCIS agent there. "'Bout time you showed. Where's the rest of your team?"

A confused look briefly flickered on Tony's face, but no one picked up on it. He brushed the question aside. "What have we got?"

"Four or five perps, we think. Burst into the hospital demanding to see a doctor. All armed. They got to the third floor before we could seal the place."

Tony felt a sharp jab of pain as he heard the words. Jeanne worked on the third floor. He tried to focus when all he wanted to do was run into the building and get her. 'Focus, Tony,' he thought to himself. The detective hadn't seemed surprised to see him so he asked, "How does that concern NCIS, detective?"

"One of them was wearing a Navy uniform. Had bloodstains all over him. One of the nurses who managed to get out and sound the alarm said she thought he'd been shot."

Tony tried to take this information in but all he could think about was how to get to the third floor - to Jeanne.

Suddenly he became aware that the detective was looking at him quizzically, "Agent DiNozzo?" repeated the cop, "What else do you want us to do?"

Tony looked at him. "Get the SRTs on the buildings overlooking the windows on the third floor. Pull back the rest of your vehicles to the perimeter line. We need to get someone in there to negotiate."

The detective stared at him in disbelief. "Didn't I just say that?" he asked. "Who do you suggest we send in?"

Tony's eyes darted to the side and then back again, as if he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. "Me." There was no hesitation in his voice.

"Er, you think that's a good idea?" The detective wasn't convinced. "You ever negotiated a hostage situation before?"

"Ye-ah." Tony's frown was evident in his voice. He didn't like the insinuation that this was above him. He thought back to the time when Gibbs was held hostage by a kid with a bomb strapped to his chest. Tony had been in charge then. He'd pulled that one off, hadn't he? Brought it to a successful conclusion? "Of course I have, Detective. _Have you_?" It was obvious he was irked by the lack of confidence in the detective's voice. "Besides you need someone that knows Navy procedures. If one or more of those guys is in the _services_, that makes it _my_ area of expertise. Do _you _have that expertise, _Detective_?" There was almost an air of childishness in his tone as he uttered the man's title.

"No, I don't" came the muttered reply.

"Well then, I think that's decided now, isn't it?" Tony slapped him on the back before taking a step towards the door, "I'm gonna need eyes and ears. Who's got 'em?"

"They're right here, sir" came a voice from behind him. Tony turned to see another officer holding a small metal case. It was open. He reached in and took out a small earpiece which he inserted into his left ear. Then he took a small clip microphone and attached it to the cuff of his jacket. Finally he placed what looked like a button pin, but was actually a mini camera, into the collar of his NCIS jacket. They ran a quick check to make sure everything was working, before Tony stepped out of the Command Post and headed for the hospital entrance. As the detective watched him go, the tech officer turned to him and said, "Sir? If he's going in to negotiate, wasn't he supposed to leave his weapon behind?"

Chapter 2

Gibbs was banging furiously on the horn of the car and yelling at the cars in front. They had somehow managed to get caught up in a traffic jam. Ziva had stuck her head out of the window to see if she could determine the cause, but before she had a chance to see clearly what the hold up was, Gibbs had snapped the wheel round and was now speeding up the wrong side of the road. He narrowly missed a head on collision as he swerved into the driveway leading up to the hospital. The screeching of tyres caught the attention of several officers who drew their weapons in response. Gibbs held out his ID and they lowered their guns, waving him through the gathering crowd of TV News crews. In an almost perfect re-enactment of Tony's arrival, Gibbs and Ziva headed towards the Command Post to find out who was in charge. The detective was still standing looking in the direction of the hospital entrance.

"Who's in charge of this circus?" demanded Gibbs.

"That would be me,… Detective John Samms. And you are?"

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs," he gestured towards Ziva, "Officer David. NCIS." Gibbs flashed his ID.

"I was wondering when the rest of you would show up. Agent DiNozzo…."

"Where _is_ Agent DiNozzo?" interrupted Gibbs, but he feared he already knew the answer.

"Er, he went inside to negotiate…" From the look on Gibbs' face, the detective realised that maybe that wasn't the answer he wanted.

Under his breath Gibbs muttered, "Dammit, DiNozzo."

"He said that he had experience at this and that he'd done it before," Samms sounded like he was trying to justify agreeing to let Tony go in.

"He _has_, Detective….**Once!**" shouted Gibbs.

"How'd that go?" asked Samms. Gibbs just glared at him. He turned to Ziva.

"Get hold of McGee. Get him to hack into the hospital's security cameras. I want eyes in there and I want IDs on these dirtbags." Ziva moved off with her cell phone in her hand. Gibbs turned back to the detective. "I need to know _every_thing that has happened from the minute this started."

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It was an eerie sensation walking down the deserted corridors of what was usually an extremely busy hospital. Security had done well to evacuate so many people in such a short space of time. Tony made his way to the staircase. He couldn't take the elevator - it would be too dangerous. They would probably have it covered. He was just reaching the door to the second floor when he stopped abruptly. He winced as the sharp tones of a familiar voice pierced the earpiece he was wearing.

"**DiNozzo!** You had _better_ start thinking of other career choices." It was Gibbs.

A grimace shot across Tony's face. The boss sounded _really_ pissed.

He whispered into his cuff. "Hey, boss!"

"What the hell were you thinking, DiNozzo?" hissed Gibbs. But before Tony could answer he asked, "Where are you?"

"In the stairwell, boss. Just reached the second floor. Heading up to third now."

"Wait! We don't have eyes yet, Tony. McGee is hacking into the security cameras. Hold your position. Repeat _we__** do **__not_ have eyes, hold your position." Gibbs was adamant.

"Can't do that boss, Jeanne is up there." The knot tightened in his stomach as he said the words.

Gibbs' voice sounded a little softer, "I know DiNozzo, but I want you to hold your position. That's an order!" The tone of the latter part of the sentence dispelled any thoughts Tony might have had about Gibbs showing any compassion.

"I'm at the door, boss." Tony's whisper was faint.

"Of the _second_ floor?" For a moment Gibbs was thankful that the younger agent seemed to be seeing sense.

"Third floor. No visual yet." Tony had pushed the door slightly open and was peering through the crack. "Can't really get a clear view of the nurse's station"

Gibbs got a sinking feeling at the report. "DiNozzo! Hold your position! Tony?!"

The stairwell was next to the elevator shaft. Tony knew the layout like the back of his hand. He had visited many times. The nurses' station would be on the left as he approached. Just past it, to the right there was a turn which led to some of the hospital rooms. To the left there was another short corridor and another stairwell. Directly opposite it was a small waiting area. Silently, he pushed the door further open so that he could squeeze through. With stealth he crept towards the station, hugging the walls to avoid being seen. He ducked through the opening at the side of the desk and crouched low to decide on his next move.

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Chapter 3

"What the hell is taking so long, McGee?" yelled Gibbs, staring at a blank screen on his laptop whilst pinning his cell phone to his left ear.

"Sorry, boss. It's just that the COS that the hospital uses had a different CODEC than usual. It took me a while to figure it out and…."

"McGee!"

Probationary Special Agent Timothy McGee, was far more computer savvy than his boss and sometimes he forgot to use layman terms.

"Sorry, boss. I think I got it, it should be coming up on your screen right about…now." An image of an empty hospital corridor flickered onto the laptop screen.

"I don't see anybody, McGee. You got control of the camera?"

"Think so, boss."

"Rotate it slowly. I need to see the nurses' station." Gibbs focused on the screen, his eyes narrowed as he took in every detail. The camera slowly panned around to the nurses' station. It looked deserted. Gibbs muttered, "DiNozzo, where the hell are you?" There was no reply. "Tony! I'm looking at the station now. What is your position?"

A small movement at the edge of the desk caught McGee's eye. "There, boss! To the left of your screen."

Gibbs looked as Ziva pointed at a hand feeling along the edge of the nurses' desk. As quickly as it appeared, it retracted again. Gibbs felt a small sense of reassurance at the sight of Tony's hand. At least he had the sense to be discreet.

Ziva wasn't so reassured. "I should go in there, Gibbs. I'm more stealthy than Tony. I have dealt with this kind of situation many times before. In Israel we are taught…"

The answer was short. "No way, Ziva. Bad enough I have one renegade agent. I'm not risking another one."

"But Gibbs…"

"No. _Zi-_va." She knew better than to try to argue. It would be pointless. Gibbs would not be swayed.

"McGee, find out what room those bastards are in. I want to see them!" It was an order, not a request. Tim tapped expertly on his keyboard. The plasma screen on the wall in the forensics lab, back at NCIS headquarters, displayed images from several different cameras. He clicked through each one until he found movement.

"Er, boss?" he was hesitant. "I think they are in one of the anterooms to the right of the nurses' station."

"You got a room number, McGee?"

A woman's gravelly voice echoed in Gibbs' ear, "Room 307… Gibbs? …Is Tony alright?"

"Yeah, Abs." Gibbs smiled slightly as he recognised the voice of Abby Sciuto, his Forensics expert, "He's fine. Though he won't be after I'm done with him."

Abby knew that Gibbs didn't really mean that. Despite all of his growling and staring, and even the occasional headslap in Tony's case, Gibbs actually cared about his team and would rather die than let anything happen to them.

"Boss? …Boss?!" There was excitement in the probie's voice.

"What is it, McGee?!" Gibbs wasn't the most patient of men.

"I got an ID, boss! Petty Officer James Holt. Went UA four days ago. Wanted in connection with a drug running outfit associated with a Simon Burgess. By all accounts, boss, Burgess is a nasty guy." McGee continued, "I pulled his records. Convicted for two rapes and three counts of murder – all drug related. Apparently the victims hadn't wanted to co operate anymore so he tortured and killed them."

"So why isn't he behind bars, McGee?" asked Gibbs.

"He was. Escaped whilst being transferred to another prison…five days ago."

"Ok…that's good work, McGee." A small smile flickered across the young agent's face. Praise didn't come very often from Gibbs, especially when he was involved in a high stress situation like this. McGee took it when he could.

Gibbs returned his attention to the laptop in front of him. He gestured for Ziva to look closely. "Room 307 is there…off to the right. _Tony_ is currently behind the nurses' station…here on the left." The well experienced agent pointed with his finger as he spoke. "I need _you_ to get on to the third floor to cover the corridor on the left of the station…here. But I need you to do it without letting Tony know. I need someone up there who can take a shot _without_ worrying about the hostage." His eyes looked deeply into hers. Ziva was glad that Gibbs trusted her but was a little unsure about whether he had just complimented her ability to focus, or had called her a cold-hearted killer.

"No problem," was all she said before strapping on a bullet-proof vest and checking her weapon. She too collected an ear piece and cuff microphone – set to a different channel so as not to alert Tony to the plan – and made her way stealthily to the hospital entrance.

Chapter 3

Dr Jeanne Benoit had been an intern at the Monroe University Hospital for several months now and she thought that she had come across every experience in the book, but she had never expected to be taken hostage at her workplace. This was a hospital – a place of healing. She watched carefully as one of the three men paced across the floor. The other two had their guns trained on the four hostages – two nurses, one orderly and herself. She was thankful that it had been a slow day, and that her only two patients had been up in the x-ray department when this sorry mess began. On the gurney at the side of her lay the body of the young Petty Officer. His wound was severe, he'd gone into cardiac arrest and she had been unable to save him. This hadn't pleased the man who was now furiously pacing back and forth. He had struck her in his frustration. Tenderly she ran her fingers across her cheek. She could feel the bruise beginning to form. Her mind drifted. Tony would go postal when he found out. Inwardly she smiled. It was nice to think that there were some decent guys out there who wanted to protect a woman. Not that she needed Tony to protect her, she could give as good as she got – she just enjoyed the idea of him being her own personal hero, even if she would never admit to it. He was a Special Agent with NCIS and she liked the fact that he got to put the bad guys away. She also loved his sense of humour – juvenile as it could be at times – Tony had an infectious sense of fun and she loved being with him. She sighed. Hopefully this would soon be over and she could curl up in his big, strong arms.

One of the nurses to her right shifted slightly. "STAY STILL!" bellowed one of the armed men. The nurse complied, letting out a small sob of fear. Jeanne placed her hand on the woman's arm and gave her a comforting look, before glaring icily at the pacing man.

"What is it that you want from us?" she asked.

"Shut up!" came the reply.

Foolishly, but bravely she tried again. "You're scaring these people. They haven't done anything wrong. Why don't you let them go?"

"I said, 'SHUT UP, bitch!" He stormed over to where Jeanne was sitting, on the floor, and pointed his gun directly at her. She held her hands up as if to concede. The nurse at the side of her whimpered again. The man, clearly annoyed, backslapped her. A sign that she, too, should be quiet. He walked back towards the other two men, and whispered something. One of them left the room. Jeanne wondered what they were planning to do. She watched and listened as carefully as she could.

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Tony heard noises. They were coming from the first room on the right. Slowly, and as silently as he could, he began to creep from his position under the desk. He made his way to the right side of the station, crouching low. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then quickly peered around the side of the desk nearest to room 307. Nothing. He ducked back out of sight, pressing his back against the wooden side panel of the station. He was just about to chance another look when he heard a sound that made him catch his breath. It was Jeanne. Her voice sounded strong, even confident. He sighed – 'she's okay', he thought to himself and a wave of relief washed over him, but it vanished rapidly when he heard a man shout 'shut up' followed by a sound that Tony recognised as someone being slapped. He almost leapt out from his position but stopped himself. He had to bite his tongue hard which caused him to emit a very low groan, almost like a grunt. He just wanted to go in there and blow those bastards away.

"DiNozzo!" A voice in his ear caused him to focus on the reality on the situation again. Afraid that any whispering might alert the hostage takers, Tony didn't respond. The voice was persistent, "Tony, you still with me? McGee ID'd our Petty Officer and one of the dirtbags that's with him… You hear me? …DiNozzo!" Tony digested the information but hoped that his boss would stop yelling in his ear and realise why he wasn't responding. _Because_ his focus was on Gibbs, Tony didn't notice that there was a figure creeping up on him until he felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into the back of his head.

Chapter 4

Ziva had been top of her class at Mossad. She was by far the stealthiest out of her current team at NCIS. Tony was good, she conceded. Gibbs was better. McGee? She remembered the time when she and McGee had to recon the outside of a school building because a kid had strapped a bomb to his chest and taken hostages. New shoes were McGee's excuse for the little squeaks each time he placed his foot on the ground. He'd had the stealth of a baby elephant with a bell around its neck. Ziva allowed herself to smile briefly at the memory then she returned her focus to her mission. She had taken a different route to Tony as she was needed on the opposite side of the station. As she approached the final set of stairs leading to the third floor, she whispered into her cuff. "Moving into position at the door, Gibbs. Do you want me to go in?"

"Negative, Ziva. I need you to get a visual on Tony first. He's not responding and I can't see jack on this laptop, the feed has gone down." Gibbs was concerned. God only knew what DiNozzo was up to. He was placing his faith in Ziva's ability to not be seen or heard.

Ziva reached the door. She popped up like a meerkat, peering through the glass before ducking back down again unseen. Silently, she pushed the door open a fraction. Instead of sticking her head out, as Tony had done, she poked a small mirror around the door so that she could see the area from all angles. It was a piece of equipment similar to that used by a dentist to look at the roof of a patient's mouth, except it was a bit bigger and Ziva used it to check for explosive devices under cars or in situations such as this. The corridors seemed clear but she could not see around the side of the nurses' station where Tony was supposed to be holding his position. She was just about to withdraw back into the stairwell to report back to Gibbs when she caught sight of movement. A figure rose up from behind the counter and in front of him was Tony with his hands on his head, a gun pointed at the base of his skull. Slowly they moved in the direction of room 307.

Ziva breathed in sharply. She remained still until Tony and his captor had disappeared into the room on the right, then she quickly retrieved her hand into the stairwell.

"Gibbs!" There was an immediate sense of urgency in her voice. Gibbs detected it straight away.

"What is it, Ziva?"

"They've got Tony! Caucasian male. Armed with a handgun, a Glock, I think. Had it pointing at Tony's head. They went into room 307. Do you want me to go in?" Ziva was concerned but remained focused. She couldn't let herself fall into the trap of thinking about what she would do if something happened to Tony. She had always been a loner but since working at NCIS she had established a rapport with the other team members, especially Tony. There was a lot of sexual tension between the two of them and she enjoyed playing on the fact that DiNozzo was a very red blooded male. Some would even accuse her of having a crush on him. Ziva would never admit it.

"That's a negative, Ziva. Hold your position!" Gibbs' voice almost startled her back to reality. She sighed deeply with frustration…but held her position.

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There was an audible sharp intake of breath from the doctor as Tony was marched into the room. Jeanne tried to hold it in but his appearance had taken her by complete surprise. Her eyes examined him as he stood, hands on head, trying not to give anyone a reason to fire their weapon. He didn't appear to have any injuries. She sighed and tried to convey her relief with her eyes. Tony tried desperately not to respond. A pained expression flashed through her beautiful blue eyes. He did not want to give these bastards anything to use against him; but she was making it hard. In his brief glance at her, to make sure she was okay, he had noticed the bruise and slight swelling below her left eye. He replayed the sound of the slap he had heard and wondered if that was when it had happened. To avoid giving anything away, Tony scanned the room. He took in the hostages and the fact that there was only one way in and one way out. He glanced over at the dead Petty Officer on the gurney but didn't allow his gaze to linger because Jeanne was over there. A shove from behind indicated that he should move forward….towards Jeanne. One of the armed men yelled at the nurses and the orderly to move over to the left side of the room. They slid themselves slowly into their new position . Tony stood still. He was only a foot away from Jeanne now. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms a la 'An Officer and a Gentleman' and march out of there with her. He bit his lip and gazed at the wall in front of him. Jeanne, meanwhile, had figured out that Tony had to be ignoring her for a reason; he was protecting her and, inwardly, she thanked him for that. She would thank him properly later on when all this was over. She allowed a brief flicker of a smile to reach her lips at the thought before removing all trace from her face.

"You too…Doctor." The man, who seemed to be in charge, gestured with his shotgun. Jeanne got up slowly and moved over to the others.

"You! On your knees!" Tony felt a sharp jab in his kidney as he sank to his knees. Simon Burgess pressed the shotgun in between his shoulder blades. "If you co-operate no one will get hurt, and we will be leaving here," he whispered menacingly. There was a hint of an Eastern European accent in his voice.

"Oh I'm co-operating, but… just so that you know…you won't actually _be_ leaving here." Another, sharper jab in the kidney caused Tony to moan and breathe in sharply. The man obviously didn't like that idea. He reached down and removed a pair of handcuffs from Tony's belt, cuffed the agent's hands behind his back and took his gun from the holster on his hip. From the other side of the room Jeanne watched with eyes like a hawk. She winced each time Tony was hit. One of the other men had been observing her. He walked over to Burgess and whispered something to him. Burgess glanced surreptitiously towards her before returning his attention to Tony.

"So what are NCIS planning to do then? Hmm?" he asked mockingly. "They sent you in to do what, exactly?"

"Well, I _would_ kick your ass right now, but there are ladies present," replied Tony, quick-witted as ever. His response was greeted by a howl of laughter from Burgess.

"Oh really!" he sniggered. "You mean like this?" He drove the butt of the shotgun into Tony's left ribcage sending him crashing against the gurney at the side of him. He gasped for breath. Burgess glanced at Jeanne.

"Is that… the best… that you… can do?" challenged Tony in between gasps for breath. This guy was really pissing him off now. One of the other men sniggered and grabbed Tony by the arm, yanking him back into a kneeling position.

"No…. but then I'm not really trying," responded Burgess. "Did your boss think I wouldn't harm an NCIS agent? Am I supposed to use you as a bargaining stool?"

Tony laughed at the man's incorrect use of language. He thought of Ziva. She always got idioms wrong too. "Er…no…I think my boss is pretty much pissed off with me right now…so whatever _you_ do to me, _he's_ probably gonna do worse……and it's tool….not stool….a bargaining _tool_" He laughed again, but grimaced as pain shot through his ribs. Burgess' face turned red with anger. He dragged Tony to his feet and pushed him backwards in to the arms of one of the other men. "Hold him!" The man did as he was told and gripped Tony's right arm. Burgess turned to face the hostages, paying particular attention to the horrified expression on Jeanne's face.

"I think… Agent DiNozzo…that the nice young doctor here appears to have more than a passing admiration for you, does she not?" Burgess noticed the look of panic on Jeanne's face and was relishing his observations. He turned to hear Tony's response.

"Yeah?….Well….it's understandable, I guess,... me being a good-lookin' guy an' all. Maybe, when this is over I'll ask her out." Tony was being fly again.

"Here. Let me fix that." Burgess responded by pounding his fist into Tony's nose. Thick red blood began to trickle towards Tony's top lip. A small squeal emitted from Jeanne's mouth. Burgess was enjoying himself. He continued his attack. Each time taking pleasure from the effect it was having on the beautiful, young doctor. The beatings continued until Tony slumped to the floor in a mass of blood and gasping for air. He was barely conscious.

Chapter 5

Gibbs heard everything. The microphone attached to Tony's cuff was still transmitting. It was very crackly but it was enough. The team leader winced at the sounds of his Senior Field Agent being beaten.

"Dammit, DiNozzo!" he muttered. He checked the laptop screen to see if they were receiving any images from the button camera in Tony's collar. The picture was extremely blurry and tinted red – Tony's blood, thought Gibbs – but he could make out the outlines of several figures that seemed to be in a sitting position. He had to think fast. He needed to get DiNozzo out of there before this all went horribly wrong. He couldn't lose another agent. Not again.

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From her position by the door in the stairwell, Ziva couldn't see what was going on but she could hear the muffled sounds of voices and someone being beaten. She was itching to get out there and do something but she was waiting for her instructions from the boss.

"Gibbs?" she whispered into her cuff. "Do you want me to go in? Tony needs help…_Gibbs_?"

"I hear ya, Ziva. Can you get yourself closer without being seen?" Gibbs was reluctant to put another agent in there, but he had no other choice. What he really wanted was to go in there himself, but he was the most experienced and needed to be commanding operations, so he remained where he was.

"Of course," came Ziva's reply. "Moving in now. Comms blackout, yes?"

"That's affirmative, Ziva….Be careful." Gibbs had to trust her. He could only watch and listen now through Tony who was obviously still lying on the ground, struggling to breathe. Gibbs kicked the tyre of the car. He hated feeling helpless.

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"Mc_Gee_!? We've got to do something! Tony's in there being beaten to a pulp!" Abby Sciuto, NCIS' Forensics expert was shaking McGee by the shoulders.

"Abs, I know… but I'm not sure what you think we can do from here." McGee knew that Abby was worried. He recognised the signs from the brief time they had spent together when they had been seeing each other. She and Tony were close friends. He'd lost track of the number of times she'd told him to watch out for his colleague because she'd had some weird dream or something and was convinced he was going to come to harm. On a few occasions she'd been right, but McGee wasn't convinced that there was anything supernatural about it, no matter how much the Goth had tried to persuade him.

"Well, we have to do _some_thing!" There was no hiding the sense of panic in her voice. Her eyes pleaded with Tim. He stared at her for a few seconds then took a deep breath.

"Okay." He paused to think. "We know Tony is in room 307, right?" Abby nodded. "And we know that all the bad guys are in the same room?"

She nodded again. "Yeah, McGee, but there's only one way _in_ and _out_ of the room. Tony's trapped." Abby was getting upset again.

"Yeah, Abs… but it _could_ also work to his advantage," The probie was trying to sound reassuring but was also trying to convince himself. "If we could get Tony to somehow manage to get them..." Abby interrupted him with a hard stare.

"Don't you put all of this on Tony! He's injured, McGee. He needs someone to go and get him….not try and do it all himself!" She punched him in the arm – a reprimand for thinking about putting Tony at further risk.

"Ow!...Abs! It was just a suggestion." He had a wounded expression on his face and was rubbing his arm.

Abby threw her arms around him, "I'm sorry, McGee. It's just….it's Tony. I can't lose him too!" She was referring to the fact that a few years back they had lost a valued friend and agent in the line of duty – Agent Caitlin Todd. Abby had been close to her too. She hung on to McGee. He placed his arms around her and hugged her back. He had to think of another way to help Tony.

NCIS NCISNCISNCISNCIS

"Have you had enough ass-kicking yet, Agent DiNozzo?" Burgess laughed at the sorry heap in front of him. "Interesting, is it not? The young doctor's reactions each time I hit you. Anyone would think she cares deeply for you." He pushed Tony with his foot. "I wonder if the feeling is mutual."

Tony blinked rapidly. He was trying to see through the blood which was obscuring his vision. He could make out that Burgess was heading towards Jeanne. He heard her squeal as she was dragged towards him. He heard a thud as she was dropped to ground beside him.

"What…are…you…doing?" he gasped, desperately trying to turn onto his side. Jeanne was on her back trying to sit up but Burgess was pushing her back down.

"Like I said. I was wondering if you felt the same way as the good doctor here." He knelt down at the side of Jeanne and caressed her face with his hand. Tony felt a sharp pain jolt through his chest even though no one had actually touched him. He had to save her from being used against him. So he tried the only way he could think of. He knew it would probably confuse, maybe even hurt her, but he could explain his method to her later when they got back home.

"Not really… considering this is… the first time... I've met her." He continued with the killer blow, "Besides…she's not really... my type." He glanced at Jeanne. Her eyes were wide with confusion. She was looking at him with an expression like a dog who knows its owner is having it put down but is helpless to do anything about it.

"Ah well, you won't mind if I have a go then, eh?" Burgess's voice was thick with intention. Tony felt an overwhelming sense of panic arise in his stomach. What had he done? He had wanted to give the bastard the impression that trying to use Jeanne to get him to comply wouldn't work, instead he seemed to have given him the impression that he could do what he wanted to her and it wouldn't bother DiNozzo.

Burgess straddled Jeanne and held her arms down by the sides of her head. He leaned in to kiss her. She snapped her head to the side, facing Tony.

"Leave her alone, you sick bastard!" Tony couldn't contain himself any longer. He wriggled frantically, trying to get into a position where he could kick the son of a bitch off her. One of the armed men behind him slammed the butt of his rifle into the centre of Tony's back. He screamed in agony and slumped face down again, his head turned towards Jeanne.

"I'm sorry, Jeanne. I'm so sorry." A tear trickled down his cheek onto the ground below him. At the same time, a solitary tear trickled down Jeanne's cheek. It too dripped onto the linoleum floor.

Chapter 6

Gibbs could hardly bare to listen. He had realised what his younger agent was trying to do. If they could use someone he cared about against him, they could get him to do almost anything. DiNozzo knew that and was attempting to convince them that Jeanne was just a stranger – so they wouldn't hurt her to get to him, but these bastards were too clever for that. Gibbs could sense that Burgess knew exactly what he was doing and knew exactly what Tony would try. The guy was into torturing his victims before he killed them. And that was exactly what he was doing to Tony and Jeanne. Gibbs looked again at the laptop. He was only grateful that he couldn't see through the congealed blood on the lens of the camera. God only knew what Tony was witnessing, not to mention what Jeanne was going through. Hearing it was bad enough.

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Ziva was already at the Nurses' station when she heard the commotion in room 307. Tony had been beaten constantly for the last twenty minutes. Her heart ached each time she heard the sickening thump of violent physical contact. When she heard the thud of him hitting the ground she sent up a silent prayer. 'Please let him be alright.' She moved cat-like to the right side of the desk and then slid across the linoleum floor to the far wall. There was a window about four feet ahead of her. It looked into room 307. Crouching low, she made her way towards the corner of the corridor where she knew the door to the room would be immediately on her right. She stopped and waited, plotting her next move. She heard Tony asking what someone was doing. He sounded as if he was in a lot of pain. He was most definitely struggling to get enough air. She heard a female squeal, then the conversation between Tony and someone who she could only assume was Burgess. She shuddered as she knew what came next. It was a technique she had been familiar with back in Israel. Coercion - also known as torture. She thought quickly. She had to do something sooner rather than later; to help Tony and to save Jeanne from the inevitable violation.

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Jeanne didn't make a sound. She was trying to focus on some place far away. She was trying to focus on anywhere except here and what was happening. She could hear Tony's voice in the distance. He was apologising. Why had he said she wasn't his type? The question whirled around her head. He had more or less handed her over to this bastard. She wasn't sure if she could forgive him for that. But still he kept apologising. She could hear the distress in his voice. She was also aware of a dull thud every now and then but couldn't work out what the noise was. The son of a bitch on top of her moved both her arms above her head and held them with one hand. She opened her eyes. Tony was pinned down on the ground by one of the other men. Blood pooled around his head which was facing her as the guy's fist clenched Tony's hair forcing him to keep looking in her direction. There was more blood on his face than there had been when she'd closed her eyes. She realised what the thudding sound was – Tony's head being pounded into the floor. She inhaled sharply as a hot pain seared her heart at the sight of him. He had come here to protect her – and yet she had sat idly by watching him being slowly beaten to death. She felt a pang of guilt for thinking that she might not be able to forgive him. What if _he_ never forgave _her_? A tear trickled down her face.

Chapter 8

Tony was fighting to stay conscious. Images were swimming in front of him and he felt decidedly seasick. He blinked. Sweat and blood were stinging his eyes. He tried to focus. That bastard was still on top on Jeanne. He now had her arms pinned above her head.

"I can see why you like her, Agent DiNozzo." Burgess grinned down at him. Tony wanted to rip the guy's eyes out and feed them to him. He made another attempt to free himself from the armed man's stronghold.

"Get …off …her, ….you …sick ….son ….of a ….bitch!" His breathing was laboured; in part because his arms were still cuffed behind him, partly because there was a guy sitting on top of him and also because he had sustained several fractured ribs in the beating he had taken.

"But I haven't finished yet….You need to see the big climax." The innuendo of that statement wasn't lost on Tony. Burgess placed his free hand on Jeanne's throat. "They say that the pleasure is heightened when there is a lack of oxygen," he said matter-of-factly. "I wonder if it is true." He placed pressure on Jeanne's windpipe. She was still looking at Tony. Fear registered in her eyes and was reflected in his own. He began screaming at Burgess to let her go. All the while he kept his eyes on Jeanne's. He wriggled, trying to find a reserve of strength from somewhere, but it was no use. Jeanne was silent apart from a few muffled gasps. Tony pleaded with her not to leave him. Tears streamed down his face, mingling in with the blood on the floor. He maintained contact with her eyes. He couldn't look away. At first they pleaded for help, but gradually the fight began to leave them. Tony was begging for her to stay. He was apologising and pleading with her. After a few agonisingly long minutes Burgess removed his hand. Jeanne continued to stare at Tony, but there was no life left in her eyes.

"NOooooooooo!" The heart-rending cry could be heard echoing throughout the empty corridors as sobs caused Tony's body to shudder uncontrollably. In a fit of rage and grief, he somehow managed to throw his captor off balance. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, which wasn't easy with his arms cuffed behind him, and launched himself at Burgess. They burst through the door and Burgess fell backwards into the corridor, Tony slamming him into the wall, his shoulder striking his captor square on in the chest.

Ziva had been crouched just outside. She was too late. She had heard everything and was trying hard to stop herself from crying. The noise of Tony's rage startled her and she had to step aside quickly to avoid being pinned beneath the two of them. As Burgess slumped to the floor, Ziva quickly stepped into the threshold of the door and fired her weapon. Her first two shots hit the guy with a rifle, centrally in the chest. He hit the ground, his heart in tatters. She spun and, simultaneously, stepped to her left and fired off another round, this time it was a head shot. The armed man stood still for a split second waiting for death to register with his brain before, he too, hit the ground with a sickening thud. Ziva turned back towards the door. Tony was kneeling over Jeanne's body. He was trying to get into a sitting position but it was difficult without the use of his arms. Ziva moved behind him and gently removed the cuffs. He didn't say anything but manoeuvred himself into a position which allowed him to cradle Jeanne in his arms. He rocked her to and fro, tears streaming down his face. Ziva couldn't bear to watch her friend go through so much pain. Quietly she beckoned to the other hostages and led them out of the room to the waiting area opposite the nurses' station. She stood for a minute, composing herself and then raised her wrist to her mouth. Her voice couldn't hide the emotion, "All clear, Gibbs. Repeat…targets are down."

Chapter 9

Gibbs took a deep breath. Sometimes he hated this job and things that he had to witness. He had heard every painful second of Tony's anguish. It was probably the most traumatic thing he had ever had to listen to, with the exception of learning of his own wife and daughter's deaths. He cursed those bastards for putting Tony through this. He had considered talking to Tony through his earpiece, assuming it was still working, or even in Tony's ear, but he didn't know what to say. So he'd said nothing.

With every passing second Gibbs was willing Ziva to just burst in there and blow the sons of bitches away. "C'mon, Ziva!" He'd muttered it more than once. When he realised what had happened to Jeanne, and heard Tony's agonising scream, he couldn't stomach any more. He threw his headset onto the laptop and turned away, hands curled into tight fists at his side. It was McGee who informed him, via his cellphone, that Ziva had given the all clear. Gibbs took another deep breath and wiped the trace of a tear from his eye before responding to McGee's voice.

"Get Ducky," was all he could manage to say.

"He's already on his way, boss." McGee's voice was expressionless. He too had heard everything. He had only just managed to prise himself from Abby's embrace. She was now sitting on the floor under her computer desk, hugging her knees and Bert, a stuffed hippo, sniffing and wiping tears from her face. He finished the call and then sank down beside her again. She leaned close to him and he hugged her tightly. 'There but for the grace of God', he thought to himself.

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The Medical Examiner's van pulled up at the side of Gibbs' car. Dr Mallard, lovingly referred to by the team as 'Ducky', stepped out. He was a man of considerable experience in many areas but his work as an ME had brought him together with Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Ducky looked at his friend's face. "Have you spoken with him yet, Jethro?"

"Not yet, Duck….Wouldn't know what to say." Gibbs was being painfully honest. In all the years that Ducky had known Jethro, he could count only on one hand the number of times he had seen his old friend wearing this lost expression on his face. He turned his attention to the young assistant who had driven. "Shall we, Mr Palmer?" Slowly, Ducky and Gibbs made their way towards the hospital entrance. Jimmy Palmer, the morgue assistant followed behind with a gurney and the necessary accessories. They took the elevator – no need for caution now. Ziva, obviously shaken, though trying not to show it, greeted them. Gibbs squeezed her shoulder gently and looked her in the eye – an unspoken question passed between them. "I'm okay," she said. "It's Tony we need to worry about now."

"Where is he?" asked Ducky, softly. Ziva gestured towards room 307. Ducky motioned for Palmer to wait where he was and then headed slowly towards the end of the corridor. Gibbs followed. The two men were more experienced than they would like to have been at comforting those who had lost loved ones. As they reached the window they got their first glimpse of Tony. He was still sitting cradling Jeanne in his arms, but he was talking to her. Every now and then he would lower his head so that his forehead was touching hers. They reached the doorway. Through his pain-filled sobs, they could just make out his words.

"I love you, Jeanne….. I'm so.. sorry….. Please forgive me. ….I should …have told you… how much… I loved you…..I'm so sorry…..I love you…..please ..don't leave me…..Jeanne?..." His body wretched with every sob. Pain jolted through him but he felt nothing. Gibbs looked at Ducky then off to the side. He was feeling helplessly lost again. The sight of his younger agent's anguish was triggering memories he had tried hard to forget. Ducky sensed that Jethro wasn't quite ready to do this. He stepped forward and placed his hand on Tony's shoulder.

"Tony?" It was spoken with the affection of a grandfather, his British accent kind and reassuring. Tony looked up through his tears.

"Hey,… Ducky…." His breath came out in judders.

"Tony? …It's time. I'll look after her for you now." The older man crouched and gently placed his arm around Tony's shoulder. Tony's bottom lip began to tremble. He didn't want to leave her. Ducky looked to Gibbs for help.

"Tony..." There was tenderness in Gibbs' voice, "Ducky will take good care of her."

"Indeed I will" added Ducky. Gibbs went over to help Tony get up.

"C'mon. We need to get you checked out." He took the strain of the younger man's body weight as he half-carried him out of the room. In a daze, Tony looked back over his shoulder as Ducky knelt down beside Jeanne's body. He heard him begin to speak,

"Now, my dear, let's get you up off the floor and onto a far more comfortable gurney." Ducky always talked to his patients.

Gibbs led Tony to a chair in the waiting area. The EMTs had finished assessing the other hostages and were starting to pack up their equipment. Gibbs motioned for them to come over. Tony sat, staring into a void of nothingness. A medical technician knelt in front of him and placed his hand on the crown of Tony's head. Tony flinched, more out of surprise at the fact that someone was in front of him, than through pain. He hadn't noticed until now. The tech placed a gauze pad over a large gash and began winding a bandage around Tony's head. Tony raised his hands defensively.

"I'm fine."

Gibbs stepped into his field of vision, "No, no you're not Tony. You have injuries that need checking out. Let the tech do his job." His voice was sympathetic but firm.

Tony looked up at his mentor.

"Is that an order, boss?"

Gibbs ruffled the agent's hair gently and half-smiled, "Yeah, Tony. That's an order."

Tony complied and let the tech clean and bandage a few other cuts. He was attempting to follow his finger with the only eye he could open when he noticed Palmer pushing a gurney. He pushed the tech away and tried to stand up. He swayed and ended up leaning against Gibbs who had caught him. Jethro followed Tony's eyeline. They were moving Jeanne. Tony took a step forward and Gibbs went with him. Ziva held back a short distance. It pained her to see her, usually buoyant and flippant, friend in such a sad state. They stopped at the edge of the nurses' desk. Tony leaned against the solid structure. Gibbs held onto him from the other side for additional support. It was a good job he did because the younger agent's legs nearly buckled when he caught sight of the gurney again. This time it wasn't empty. Tony's body juddered as a sob tried to escape. Jeanne was lying on the gurney, a blanket up to her neck. She looked, for all the world, as if she were asleep. Ducky, breaking with protocol, had chosen not to put her in a body bag. Tony breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. The room was starting to swim out of focus again. As they went past, he reached out and grabbed Ducky's arm.

"Th….Thank you for……talking….to her,…Ducky" was all he could get out before the pain took over and he began to slide towards the floor. Quickly, Gibbs caught him with Ziva, who had dashed over at the first sign that Tony was weakening, and the medical tech helped to get him back on his feet. Together they placed him on the EMT's gurney. He curled up on his right side clutching the left side of his abdomen. His body was wracked with pain, guilt and sorrow and he no longer had the strength to hold onto consciousness. His eyes closed and he allowed himself to succumb to the darkness.

Chapter 10

The door to the Multiple Threat Assessment Center closed behind him as Gibbs slowly made his way down the gentle slope.

"How is he?" asked a slightly built, red-headed woman. Jenny Shepard, the Director of NCIS, stood up from her seated position.

"In surgery. They don't know yet," came the reply. Gibbs was a man of few words at times. Director Shepard reached out placing her hand tenderly on Gibbs' arm. "He'll be okay, Jethro. He's strong…a fighter."

"Ye-ah." There was a long pause. Gibbs stared blindly at the large plasma screen which filled the entire wall. Eventually he said, "How could they have not seen this coming, Jen?" She gave him a quizzical look. He continued, "Why were they transferring him? How could they not have known that Burgess would have planned something like this?" He turned to face her.

"I don't think he did," replied Jenny. Now it was Gibbs' turn to give the quizzical look. She continued, "Ok, I believe he planned his escape, but I don't believe he planned on the Petty Officer dying…"

"Well, why'd he shoot him then?" It was a valid question.

"Maybe as a warning. Maybe his aim was a little too good for him to be able to make a mistake. I don't know, Jethro." Jen looked at her former partner (in more ways than one) with concern in her eyes. She could see he was struggling to deal with what had happened to his Senior Field Agent. The anguish was there in his eyes, despite all of his attempts to hide it. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not a man to show his true feelings – he felt it somehow weakened him – made him vulnerable. And she knew Gibbs hated feeling vulnerable….almost as much as he hated loose ends. No matter what she said to him right this minute, she knew that Gibbs would not be satisfied until he had worked out exactly how and why Burgess came to be in that hospital. She also knew it was his way of avoiding having to think about Tony.

"Nah… I'm not buying it, Jen. He had a plan…and I'm gonna find out what it was." Gibbs gave a sharp nod of his head to signify that he had made his decision, and that he was right, before turning and heading back up the slope to leave MTAC.

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"Abs?" There was whoosh of air as the automatic door leading to the inner sanctum of Abby's lab slid open and Gibbs stepped through it. He was looking for his Forensics expert. He knew she'd taken Tony's situation pretty hard. She wasn't anywhere obvious and anyone else would have assumed she wasn't there, but Gibbs knew where to look. He found her curled up beneath her desk, tightly hugging Bert, her stuffed hippo, her black mascara mapping out where tears had streaked down her face. He sat down on the floor beside her. "Hey, Abs," he said gently.

"Hey, Gibbs." Her usually bouncy tone of voice had been replaced with a low monotonous one. Gibbs placed his hand on the side of her cheek, his thumb attempting to wipe away the remnants of the smudged make-up.

"He's gonna be alright, Abs."

"No he's not, Gibbs."

"Yeah…he is." Gibbs had a soft but adamant look on his face.

"How can he be? After what he's been through." Abby's concern was genuine. She knew Tony well. She knew that he would recover from his physical wounds, probably even play on them for sympathy for a while, but she was afraid about his emotional well-being. She had never seen Tony seem so truly happy until he met Dr Jeanne Benoit. He had changed. He was still playful but there was also a sense that he had found something special, some_one _special, some one he could be responsible for, and was actually enjoying that responsibility. It was like he was …growing up. It had taken him a long time to get there and Abby wasn't sure if he could handle it being ripped away from him so painfully soon.

"_We'll_ get him through it, Abs." Gibbs was still adamant. He shared the exact same concerns, but he was looking at it from a different angle…he'd been there himself. He half-winced at the memory of the loaded gun in his hand and the tears streaming down his own cheeks. There was no way he was going to let Tony suffer the same way. "We'll _get_ him through it, Abs," he repeated. Abby looked at the older Agent. She gave him a closed lip smile.

"Yes, _we_ _will_," she confirmed, nodding her head. She reached out her hand, a signal for Gibbs to help her up from under the desk. Pointing both index fingers of each hand at him she said, "Now…what can I do for _you_, Agent Gibbs?" Her bounce was beginning to return.

Chapter 11

Ziva shifted her position. She had been standing leaning against the door of the waiting room. She hated hospitals. There was nothing but suffering and pain in them. She made her way over to the drinks machine but found there was nothing she wanted from it. She had been waiting for hours. Tony had been in surgery for hours. She winced as she remembered hearing the beating he had taken. She could still hear his rattled breathing as his fractured ribs pushed into his lungs. She shivered at the recall. The doctor had said there was some internal bleeding. _Some _internal bleeding? Enough for 4 hours of surgery? She checked her wristwatch again and cursed silently to herself. Footsteps caught her attention. She looked up to see a youngish man dressed in surgical blues.

"Officer David?..."

"Yes. How is he?" She was desperate for news.

"Surgery was successful. We managed to stem the bleeding in his thoracic cavity but we did have to remove his spleen. Barring any post-surgical complications, he should make a full recovery." The doctor's report was short and to the point. Ziva appreciated that. She heaved a sigh of relief.

"Can I see him?" she asked.

"He's a little out of it right now, so he won't be aware of your presence. But sure, you can see him. He's in Recovery - through those doors and to your right." The young man smiled and moved over to the Nurses' station where he picked up a chart to sign. Ziva made her way to the doors he had gestured towards. She hesitated outside the door to Recovery. Her stomach was churning, her hands sweaty, she was nervous but wasn't sure why. She drew in a long breath and wiped her palms down the hips of her pants, before pushing the door open.

The sight of him attached to countless tubes caused her to inhale quickly. He was asleep, or, more-likely, in a drug-induced state of unconsciousness. Despite this appearance he didn't look as though he was resting. His body exhibited the marks of his physical torture; angry red-purple bruises covered his face, his right eye was swollen shut, the left badly bruised; there was the hint of congealed blood on his swollen lip and a blood-stained dressing covered the large gash above his right eyebrow. Her eyes examined him closely. Both arms showed the discolouration of bruises and his wrists displayed rings of bruising from the handcuffs having been too tight. No doubt beneath his hospital gown the bruising would be worse. Ziva took a step towards him and stood, stationary, at the left side of his bed. Gently, she placed her hand over his on the bed and allowed a tear to trickle, unchallenged, down her face.

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McGee didn't know what to do. He was torn between going to the hospital, staying with Abby in the lab and sitting here at his desk trying to work out how the hell Burgess had just annihilated his friend and colleague's first chance of real happiness. 'WWTD?' he thought to himself – 'What Would Tony Do?' Despite the constant chastisement at DiNozzo's hands, McGee actually looked up to him. Tony was a damn good NCIS agent and McGee knew he could learn a lot from him, even if it did irritate him when Tony constantly referred to him as 'Probie' and gave him menial tasks to do. He had come to realise that it was done and said with affection – most of the time. The young agent tried to imagine what Tony would do in this situation. It reminded him of the time when he had found himself lost after shooting a police officer. Tony had gone out of his way to visit him at his apartment to try to make him feel better. Tim smiled at the memory of what DiNozzo had told him about the first time _he_ had fired his weapon, and at the look of momentary panic when he realised that he needed to make sure no one else found out about the pant-wetting incident. McGee had assured him he wouldn't spill the beans, even to Abby. Of course, the threat of Tony slapping him silly had convinced him too. Familiar footsteps and the distinct smell of strong black coffee brought his mind back to the squad room. Gibbs stood in front of him.

"McGee! Get me everything you can lay your hands on about Petty Officer James Holt, from the minute he was born to the minute he stopped breathing! I also want police and prison files, dammit _everything_, on that bastard Simon Burgess!"

"On it, Boss!" McGee was somewhat relieved that Gibbs had made his decision for him. He began tapping furiously on his keyboard, at the same time placing the handset of his phone between his ear and shoulder. He dialled a number and waited for a response, still hammering away at the computer.

Gibbs nodded his head briefly. Okay, McGee was on task. He turned slightly and before he could stop himself he shouted, "DiNozzo! Get…….." His words stopped abruptly as Gibbs stared at Tony's empty desk, realising what he had just done. McGee looked up from the computer screen, his fingers momentarily still. Gibbs shook it off to turn to his own desk. As he stepped around to the other side, his eyes passed over McGee, who immediately began tapping the keyboard again. Having delegated tasks; McGee was tracking down files, Abby was working on the forensic evidence taken from the hospital, Ziva was with Tony, Gibbs wasn't sure what he should do. He hated sitting around doing nothing so he went to the only place he hadn't visited yet – autopsy.

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"Alls I'm saying is that it's such a shame, Dr Mallard. She was very pretty." Jimmy Palmer, Ducky's most recent assistant always had something to say. He was looking at the lifeless face of Dr Jeanne Benoit on the metal table that became the last bed any of the ME's patients ever laid down on.

"She still is Jimmy,…Tony certainly thought so." Ducky looked up at his young assistant's face. He was met with an expression of sympathy, yet one that was eager to learn.

"How _is_ Agent DiNozzo, Doctor?" he asked.

"He's out of surgery." The answer came, not from Ducky, but from Gibbs who had just entered through the automated door. "They removed his spleen. Ziva's with him." He paused. "Anything, Duck?"

Ducky glanced up at the sound of his friend's voice and was glad to see a more definite, determined look on his face. He had found his way again.

"Not yet, Jethro. Other than that there are obvious signs of sexual assault. Cause of death was asphyxia…. Yes, I'm afraid her assailant pressed down on her oesophagus, cutting off the oxygen supply to her brain. There's evidence of petechial haemorrhaging around the eye area, along with..." But before he could continue, Gibbs interrupted.

"I know, Ducky. I heard." The two friends made eye contact and the older doctor realised his error.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jethro. I didn't think," he lowered his eyes.

Palmer watched the exchange intently. He was fond of both of the older men in front of him and had the utmost respect for them. He sensed that Agent Gibbs wouldn't hold such a painful lapse of memory against the eccentric ME.

"Anything I _don't_ know?" Gibbs tried to get back on topic, fearing that the memory of the woman's dying moments would throw him off centre again.

Ducky's professionalism kicked in. "Burgess died of internal haemorrhaging. The pericardial sac was torn and his left ventricle punctured by a splinter from a broken rib. Died within minutes," explained Ducky, adding, "But it would have been horrifically painful…..Bastard got what he deserved." He looked up to see agreement in Gibbs' eyes.

"What about Petty Officer James Holt?" asked the Special Agent.

"Yes, well…I'm afraid the Petty Officer is a bit more complicated. You see, the obvious cause of death would be lead poisoning…." He was interrupted by Palmer's confusion.

"But I thought he was shot, Doctor?"

Ducky looked from Palmer to Gibbs and shook his head – 'so naïve'- both he and Gibbs had had the same thought.

"He was, Palmer," answered Gibbs, "Go on, Duck." Palmer continued to look confused whilst Ducky continued his report.

"Yes…where was I? Ah, yes….the bullet entered beneath the left clavicle, narrowly missing the sub-clavian artery…in fact it caused a lot of soft tissue damage but didn't hit anything major." Ducky enjoyed long, drawn out explanations. It added to the sense of mystery, he believed.

"So, how'd he die, Duck?" Gibbs was more of a straight-to-the-point kind of a guy.

"I'm getting to that, Jethro." The doctor would not be rushed. Gibbs sighed but knew from experience that Ducky would have a dramatic reveal up his sleeve.

"You said that Burgess was part of a drug – running enterprise?" asked the ME.

"Yeah.."

"That would make sense considering what I found in the Petty Officer's intestinal tract." Ducky now seemed to be talking to himself, almost mulling things over.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, "Ducky?!" His impatience was starting to show.

"Mr Palmer, would you be so kind as to retrieve that bowl from over there and bring it here, please?" He pointed to a trolley which sat alongside the metal table furthest away. Palmer did as asked. The bowl was covered by a surgical cloth. Ducky took the bowl and placed it on the empty table in front of them. Palmer peered over to see what the older Doctor was about to reveal. He was standing in front of Gibbs, who cleared his throat and gave Palmer a 'do you mind?' look. The young assistant stepped to the side with a nervously apologetic expression on his face.

"Voila!" Ducky drew back the cloth to reveal what looked like eight small round balloons, one of which was split open displaying a white paste-like substance.

"He was a _mule_, Ducky?" asked Gibbs, though he didn't really need an answer.

"More like an ass, actually," responded the ME, glancing at Palmer who had snorted at the doctor's word play.

"Good one, Doctor…..mule…ass" Palmer became uncomfortable as the two men stared at him. The smile left his face and he shifted, "Er, I'll just put these away," he said picking up a tray of instruments and scurrying away.

Gibbs continued to look at the balloons. "Did one of these rupture in his stomach, Duck?"

"Yes, Jethro. That's where cause of death comes in. The Petty Officer didn't die from a gunshot wound….he died from a drug overdose." Ducky's big reveal wasn't anywhere near as gratifying as he thought it would be, mainly because Gibbs was an exceptionally intelligent man and could work out most things for himself….as long as it didn't involve technology.

Gibbs started to piece it together. "Burgess was into drug running. Petty Officer Holt was one of his mules……We know that Burgess didn't like anyone who didn't co-operate….Holt must have wanted out…That's why the gunshot wasn't a kill shot….It was a form of torture….Did the trauma of getting shot cause the balloon to rupture?"

"Goodness, no! The drugs were already absorbed into his bloodstream before he was shot. I'm afraid the Petty Officer didn't stand a chance even if he _hadn't_ encountered a bullet. There was enough heroin in his system to kill a small water buffalo."

Gibbs' mind was whirring. "Thanks, Ducky." He started heading for the door.

"Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"When are you going to see young Anthony?" Ducky enquired.

Gibbs blinked and looked to one side. He shuffled from one foot to the other but said nothing. Ducky recognised his friend's discomfort. "Make it soon, would you?" he shouted as Gibbs half-saluted in response. As the automated door swished shut he added, "For both your sakes."

Chapter 12

Tony could sense movement at his side. Sounds were drifting in and out of audible focus but he had not yet got to the point where he could open his eyes. He tried to swallow but his throat was parched. It was like rubbing sandpaper together. The friction caused his cough reflex to kick in. Red hot pain seared through his body and he heard his own audible gasp. The figure at his side placed a gentle hand on his left shoulder.

"Tony?" He heard his name but couldn't identify the voice. It was female so he used his investigative skills and made a deduction.

"Jeanne?" His voice was weak and raspy, due to the dryness of having had a tube down it for hours on end. There was no reply, so he tried again. "Jeanne? Is that you?" Again there was no reply, but he felt something wet drip on to his hand, a small droplet of water, about the size of a tear. He figured he couldn't rely on his ears so he made an attempt to open his eyes. The right one wouldn't budge but he was able to lift his left lid slightly. He couldn't make anything out. It was all too fuzzy, plus the angle of the opening only allowed him to look towards the foot of the bed rather than at the room. Gradually, the fuzziness began to fade and things started to focus. He saw his arm by his side, tubes were sticking out of it. There was bruising around his wrist. He could see his hand….and the hand which was resting on top of it. Desperate to see who it belonged to, he made the mistake of trying to shift his position. The intense agony that rocketed through his whole body actually caused him to yelp.

"No, Tony. Stay still!" The figure was closer this time, leaning over him, gently pushing him back into his original position. He didn't fight. The pain was too real. His focus faded and he drifted into blackness again.

Ziva hadn't known how to respond. Tony's weak voice had taken her by surprise, she didn't think he was conscious. But what took away her capacity to respond was the name that he had called: 'Jeanne'. Ziva didn't know what to do. She didn't want to try to comfort him by pretending to be someone she wasn't. Nor did she want to bring him back into harsh reality. She became aware that maybe he didn't remember that Jeanne was dead. She did not want to be the one to tell him. She could not witness his distress at losing Jeanne all over again. When he called out again she'd remained silent; but she could not stop the tear from falling. When he tried to move and screamed out in pain, she couldn't remain quiet any longer. Gently she manoeuvred him back and sighed with relief as unconsciousness swept over him once more and he lay still.

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Abby wasn't happy. Gibbs was thwarting her every attempt to give him information that he didn't already know. He always seemed to be one step ahead of her, finishing off her sentences, beating her to the punchline. He did it most days but some days it really irked her. Today was one of those days.

"Well, why did you come down here if you already knew, Gibbs?" It was fighting talk. Only Abby could get away with using that tone of voice with Gibbs. It was like a father/daughter kind of a thing.

"Came to see how you were doing….and… to give you this." He placed a jumbo sized drinks container full of Abby's favourite soft drink – CafPow – on the desk in front of her.

"Ohhh Gibbs! You're so sweet to me!" She flung her arms around the bemused agent giving him a big Abby Hug but releasing him quickly. "No, really. Why are you here? I don't have anything for you, which is weird 'cos I usually have something that you mis…" She corrected herself quickly as she caught the look in Gibbs' eye, "might not have found yet, which when you think about it is not really that often because you're always one step ahead of me, Gibbs, which really isn't fair because I work _so hard_, processing all the evidence that you give to me to tell you something that you don't know when you already know it." Abby rarely paused for breath.

"Are you done?" For once Gibbs had shown some patience.

"Apparently." Abby had an indignant look on her face. Gibbs had a wry smile on his.

"Good….Now, I need you to take a look at the Petty Officer's laptop. McGee is getting it now."

"And what am I looking for?" she asked and without missing a beat added, "…that you _don't_ already know." Gibbs gave her a warning look that told her not to push it.

"Anything he might have on it with regards to a daily planner or something that might give us an idea of who he was supposed to deliver those drugs to. I don't know, Abby…" He turned to leave.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Abby shouted after him.

"What?" he shouted back.

"That you don't know!" she grinned playfully and then slurped some CafPow through the straw. Gibbs turned to the door and only when his back was to Abby did he let the grin spread across his face.

The elevator doors opened and McGee almost walked into his boss. He was carrying a silver laptop. "Sorry. Boss….Petty Officer Holt's laptop….I'm , er, just delivering it to Abby." Gibbs always made the probie nervous.

"Well, deliver it then, McGee!" Gibbs knew he made the young agent nervous and he thrived on it. "And when you're done delivering, get yourself to the hospital. You're on the next watch."

"Got it, Boss" The doors started to shut but Gibbs stuck his hand in the way as he remembered something.

"McGee! Those….." he began but McGee cut him off.

"Files on Petty Officer Holt? On your desk, Boss….along with everything we have on Burgess." The doors closed and the elevator rose up. Tim turned around to enter the lab to find Abby standing directly in front of him, having heard the whole interaction with Gibbs. She was grinning wildly and punching the air triumphantly.

"Way to go, MyGeek!"

"What did I do?" Tim asked, somewhat confused.

"Gave Gibbs a taste of what it's _like_ for the rest of us," she answered in a sing-song kind of voice before taking another slurp of CafPow and returning to her computer. McGee ambled after her with the laptop under his arm.

Chapter 13

Having dropped off the laptop and promised Abby that he would call her the _second _that Tony was awake, McGee had made his way to the hospital. He went to the Nurses' station to find out what room Tony was in. He was directed to the Recovery room where he found Ziva sitting at the side of Tony's bed.

"How's he doing?" he whispered.

"In and out, mostly," replied Ziva. She opened her mouth as if to add something but hesitated.

"What?" McGee had picked up on it. Despite what they said about him he could be very observant at times. Ziva wondered what to tell him. She looked at Tony and then gestured for McGee to follow her outside.

"I did not want to tell you this in there because he might hear."

"Ziva? What is it?" Tim was getting unnerved. He wondered, somewhat afraid, what she was going to tell him.

"Tony came round earlier," she began.

"Well, that's great!...," McGee interrupted, a smile forming on his face. Ziva's expression hadn't changed so he became worried again. "Isn't it?"

"Yes. But …."

"What? Ziva?"

"He felt my hand on his and he called me Jeanne." There, she had said it.

"Oh?" McGee wasn't sure what else she wanted him to say.

Ziva looked at his puzzled face. "I didn't know what to do, McGee! He might not realise that Jeanne is ...you know..actually…" She couldn't formulate the word 'dead'.

"Ohhh…" The penny was beginning to drop for McGee. He understood now, but he still didn't know what to say.

"Should we tell Gibbs?" she asked. "If anyone should tell Tony what happened to Jeanne, it should be Gibbs, yes?"

"I guess so. You'd better call him." McGee didn't relish the task of passing this on to the boss.

"Why me?" Ziva didn't like the idea too much either.

"Because I've been sent to relieve you here. And everyone knows you're not supposed to use cell phones in a hospital. Interferes with the equipment." McGee was pleased with his explanation and hoped that it was enough. It was. Flinging her arms upwards and exhaling loudly, and no doubt cursing in Arabic under her breath, Ziva stormed off down the corridor. McGee smiled to himself as he turned and went back into the Recovery room.

He wasn't quite ready for the sight that greeted him. Tony's left eye was fully open and staring right at him.

"Tony!" It came out like a surprised yelp.

"Who… were you…. expecting,…. Probie?" His voice was dry and raspy and it was obvious he was struggling to breath in between words.

"Er…no one…I mean…you, of course….I…er…just didn't know you were awake." McGee wasn't struggling for breath, just words. His childhood stutter sometimes showed itself when he was nervous, or surprised. He stood motionless at the doorway.

"Are…you…coming in…or was it…a flyby…visit?" Tony asked.

McGee realised that he hadn't moved and took an awkward step towards the bed.

"Promise….I …won't…bite." Tony gestured with his finger for McGee to come closer. He winced at the pain that even that slight movement caused. Tim made it to the bedside.

"How are you feeling?" He could have kicked himself for asking such a stupid question, he could see how Tony was doing; he was in incredible pain and fighting to breathe. The agent berated himself silently.

Through his one useful eye, Tony could sense the younger agent's discomfort. Actually it was fairly obvious by his awkward behaviour and stilted sentences but Tony was prepared to cut the probie some slack. He realised that he probably was a scary sight in his current condition.

"Relax, probie…You keep….turning…that purple…colour…and …they're gonna ….need…to get you…a bed." Tony made a weak attempt at a smile but his swollen face wouldn't allow it. He closed his eye and exhaled deeply. McGee sighed with relief, Tony was making jokes, and that comforted him somewhat. He sat down. After a few minutes, Tony broke the silence. "So…you gonna….talk to me….McGee….or …are we gonna…use…telepathy?"

Tim was thankful that Tony had kept his eye closed. He felt more comfortable knowing that he didn't have to maintain eye contact. He knew Tony could pick up on the slightest thing in a person's eyes and he didn't think he could hide anything from his friend if he started asking difficult questions. A ringing phone saved him from having to think of something to say. He automatically pulled out his cell, even though he knew he'd turned it off. It was inactive. The ringing was coming from somewhere on the other side of the room. McGee got up and went to investigate. He soon found the source. It was Tony's cell phone which had been placed in a plastic bag along with his holstered weapon, clothing and other personal effects. He took the phone from the bag.

"It's your phone, Tony." He held it up. "Want me to answer it?"

"Go ahead, …probie."

"Hello?" There was a stilted conversation. McGee ummed and ahhed a bit and there were a lot of pauses. The suspense was driving Tony crazy. He had no idea who was on the line. Eventually McGee hung up.

"Who was it?" asked Tony. McGee wasn't sure whether or not to tell the truth. At least not until Gibbs had been to see Tony.

"McGee?!...Who…called….me?" Tony was getting impatient, which wasn't good because it hurt.

"Erm….Wrong number." Tim decided to go with the lie.

"McGee!!!" There was a warning tone to Tony's voice. He could tell McGee was lying. Tim knew he was busted.

The probie caved. "It was Valentino's." Valentino's was Tony's favourite Italian restaurant – very exclusive and very romantic. McGee saw what he thought was confusion flash across Tony's face, although it was difficult to tell with all the bruising.

"Valentino's?...What….did they…want?" Tony was genuinely puzzled as to why the restaurant would be calling him. They only did that to confirm bookings and he hadn't made a booking.

"Um….they wanted to…ah…confirm a booking for Thursday night." McGee didn't want to be having this conversation. It was obvious where it was going.

"But…I haven't ….made….any booking." The truth was beginning to dawn on Tony. Jeanne must have booked a table. But why Thursday? It wasn't his birthday. Suddenly it hit him with an impact that would have rivalled a train wreck. Thursday was the 14th – Valentine's Day. A sob escaped his lips and a single tear trickled down his left cheek. McGee watched as realisation dawned on his friend's face. He said nothing. There was nothing _to_ say. Instead he made his way back to the chair at the side of Tony, reached out and gently squeezed his hand.

Chapter 14

Ziva found Gibbs in Abby's lab. He was having the intricacies of Holt's laptop disorganisation explained to him and the fact that there was nothing useful on it. When Abby saw her she ran over and flung her arms around her. Another Abby Hug.

"Ziva! How's Tony? Is he awake? I told McGee to call me the very _second_ he woke up but I know he won't, he's a real stickler for following rules about cell phones in hospitals…" Ziva didn't get a chance to respond to any of Abby's questions because Gibbs interrupted.

"Ziva? What are you doing here? I sent McGee to relieve you so that you could go home and get some sleep." Gibbs was using his firm but caring tone.

"I know, Gibbs, but I have to talk to you about something." She looked as though something heavy was weighing on her mind.

"You can say it here. Abs is okay." He encouraged her to speak with his eyes.

"It's about Tony." Ziva was still a little uncomfortable talking in front of Abby, she knew how close they were. But she also knew that those last three words had more or less concreted the fact that she would have to speak to Gibbs in front of the Goth. Abby closed in on her. Now she was getting worried.

"Is he alright? Is there something you're not telling me? _Giibbs_?" Abby looked to the older man and put on her 'make her tell me' face.

"Spit it out, Ziva." Gibbs was straight to the point.

"Okay. Abby?…Tony is fine…at least he was when I left him….I just… I….I get the feeling that he doesn't know what has happened to Jeanne." She tried her best to be concise.

"And how do you get that, Ziva, when Tony's lying unconscious in a hospital bed?" Abby was in a challenging sort of a mood.

"He came round…. briefly…and he thought I was her." Ziva looked at Gibbs.

"I _knew_ McGee wouldn't call….just wait 'til he gets….." Abby was displaying her displeasure.

"Relax, Abby…McGee wasn't even there yet," Ziva was getting irritated by the forensics expert's whining.

Gibbs' face was serious, "How do you know he thought you were Jeanne, Ziva?"

"He saw my hand on his and called out her name." She paused. "If he knew she was …dead, he wouldn't have called out her name, yes?"

"Not necessarily. He could have been groggy from the anaesthetic. Did he actually look you in the face when he said it?" Gibbs was hoping for an explanation other than that the young agent was already in denial.

"He couldn't. His eye was only open a fraction." Ziva replayed the incident in her head. "If he doesn't know, Gibbs….then someone needs to tell him….and the sooner the better." Gibbs exhaled loudly. This was a task he wasn't looking forward to. His cell phone interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Boss?."

"McGee?! Where are you? I thought I told you to stay with Tony at the hospital." Gibbs got very irritated when people didn't do as he asked.

"I did, Boss. I mean, I am,… I just stepped outside for a minute to call you." There was a slight pause. "Tony's awake."

"Has he said anything?" Gibbs wanted to know if he still had to commit the ominous task of breaking his younger agent's heart.

"Yeah, Boss." There was slight pause. "He knows." McGee explained about the phone call from Valentino's and how he had sat for the best part of the last hour, in silence waiting for the tears to stop rolling down Tony's cheek. It had pained him to watch. In the end, he didn't; he just stared at the floor, but kept his hold on Tony's hand. Eventually, exhaustion had set in, Tony had fallen asleep and McGee had stepped out to call Gibbs.

Gibbs exhaled deeply again. There was a mixture of relief and shared pain in the breath that came out. He really felt for DiNozzo. At least he wasn't in denial – that was one hurdle they wouldn't have to overcome. He knew he couldn't leave it much longer before he visited his best – though he would die denying it if asked – agent.

"I want to see him. Gibbs, I need to see him." Abby was adamant in her request. She hated being the one stuck at HQ whilst everyone else got to be with Tony in his hour of need. She wasn't sure whether she was asking permission or whether she was telling Gibbs her intention but one thing was certain – either way- she was going to that hospital and no one was going to stop her.

"Okay, Abs." Gibbs couldn't deny her that. She was the closest to Tony, and DiNozzo would need all the close friends he could get to help him through the toughest part: living with the guilt. Gibbs knew, first hand, what survivor's guilt could do to a man. He was damned sure that he wasn't going to let Tony find out.

Chapter 15

The next time the world came in to view, darkness had begun to descend outside the window. Tony could make out fuzzy images with his right eye now, the lid of which he could open just a fraction. His left was more or less fully open and his vision in that one was a lot clearer. He still couldn't move much else, other than his hands, not without excessive waves of pain anyway, so he didn't bother trying. He became aware of a set of eyes boring into him from his left side. He turned his head gingerly to see Abby at the side of him. She had an intense look on her face – the same look she wore whilst closely analysing a piece of evidence in her lab, but there was a large dollop of concern mixed in with the concentration.

"Hey, Abs." Tony's breathing had settled a bit more and, since they had increased the strength of his painkillers, he found it easier to talk in sentences that were less punctuated by gasps for air.

"Hey, Tony." She searched her brain for something to say. "Um…So Bert wanted to come but he was busy keeping somebody else company. He says hi." Tony was thankful for the small talk. He smiled weakly at the thought of Abby's stuffed hippo. He remembered the first time he had discovered that it farted. The memory still amused him.

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony didn't think it was unusual that the only person who hadn't visited him yet was his boss. He knew how Gibbs felt about hospitals. But he _was _beginning to wonder why no body was mentioning him, or the case that he was working on. Tony knew, of course, that the case Gibbs was working on involved _him_ but he felt a little frustrated that he didn't know how far they were getting. He also knew that they were trying to spare his feelings and he was grateful for that, but still, it was frustrating.

"Oh, you know. He's off somewhere drinking coffee." Abby was vague. The truth was she didn't actually _know_ where Gibbs was. He had dropped her at the hospital three hours ago, and said he was parking the car. She guessed he _really_ didn't like hospitals when he failed to return. Her eyes looked around the room. She was looking for something to talk about. "So, what's the food like? 'Cos I hear that hospital food is _really_ disgusting. Bad enough to make you sick, which is ironic really because it's supposed to make you feel better, although I guess that's what all the meds are for, right? To make you feel better?"

"Have you been mainlining caffeine again, Abs?" Tony was used to her caffeine fuelled rants. It was comforting to see that nothing much had changed there.

"No-o." There a childish playfulness in her response, pretend hurt that he could suggest that she would do that. Actually, she had tried it once but it didn't give her the same rush as it did when she drank it so she forgot the whole idea and stuck to her jumbo sized cups.

"C'mon, Abs. You can't fool me…how many have you had?" Tony was using all of his energy reserves to keep the act going.

"Only four…" after a slight pause, "…teen."

"Fourteen! This week?!" Her answer had managed to take him by surprise. It was only Tuesday after all.

"Um…today?!" she fiddled with her pigtail plaits and stared at the floor, like a child who knows they have done something they shouldn't have. Tony raised his head off the pillow to look at her full on in amazement. He had just gained even more respect for his weird friend. Fourteen CafPows in one day?...That was a record, even for Abby. He was amazed she wasn't spinning from the ceiling lights. The effort of lifting his head for more than a few seconds began to take its toll so he lowered it back on to the pillow before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath. He mused to himself that he could use a little CafPow himself right about now.

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Gibbs _had_ intended to go and see Tony. He'd parked the car; even made it to the hospital entrance. The automatic doors had swished open but he couldn't step inside. He tried but his feet wouldn't move. Visitors and out-patients ambled past him as he stood fixed to the spot. Eventually he'd turned around and headed back to the car. What was a couple more hours? Anyway, Abby was with him right now, he'd only be in the way of their crazy conversations. He drove back to base and was sitting behind his desk, drinking a fresh cup of coffee, pouring over the case files McGee had left for him, when Ducky appeared unexpectedly in front of him. Gibbs nearly dropped his coffee. "Jeez, Ducky!! Y'almost made me spill my coffee. I thought_ I_ was the one who usually did the sneaky approach." It was true. Gibbs did have a knack of appearing without anybody noticing, usually behind DiNozzo just after he had done or said something stupid, and normally followed by a swift slap to the back of Tony's head. It was good that his Marine training was still being put to good use.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that, Jethro. I've been practising."

"So I see, Duck. So I see. What can I do for you?" Gibbs was feeling quite amenable.

"You can stop arsing around and get yourself to that hospital!" Ducky's forthrightness took Gibbs by surprise, yet again. He stood up, both hands on his desk. An aggressive look flashed across his face before dissipating into a softer, little-boy-lost, expression.

"I tried, Ducky." He blinked. "Couldn't do it."

"Well, you're going to have to do it sooner or later, Jethro..and the sooner the better." Ducky knew a firm approach was needed in this instance. He continued his argument, "This isn't going to go away, Gibbs. When were you planning on talking to him? When he returns to work? That could be weeks, months even. I doubt even Tony would understand you leaving it that length of time." Gibbs knew he was right. He listened to his wise old friend. "Tony needs you _now_, Jethro. Like it or not, you are the only one that has any idea of what he's going through right now. He needs to know that you're there for him….not just as a boss…but as a friend." Ducky had said his piece and he rounded it off with a short, sharp nod of his head. A trait he shared with Gibbs. They both considered it confirmation that they were right. Now that he had done what he had intended to do, the doctor began to make his exit. "Right, well, I'll leave you to ponder, Jethro. Must get back before Palmer completely rearranges autopsy. I left him taking an inventory."

Gibbs barely noticed he'd gone. He was too busy gearing himself up to leave the squad room, get in the car and head back to the hospital where, this time, he wouldn't back out of his duty as a friend.

Chapter 16

It had been a bit of a strange evening for Tony. First there was Abby, high on caffeine. Then there was McGee who had ummed and ahhed his way through a brief conversation when he had come to collect Abby. One of the nurses had informed him that he no longer had a spleen and, somewhere in all of this, he was sure he had caught sight of Special Agent Kate Todd standing near the window of his room. He knew he couldn't have because Kate was dead, and if he was seeing her then either he was going crazy or was dead too…And he knew that he wasn't dead because he was in too much pain and you didn't feel pain when you were dead, right? 'Has to be the meds' he thought to himself. Still, he felt a little comforted at the thought of Kate paying him a visit. He missed her. He still hadn't spoken about the fact that he ended up with her blood and brain matter all over his face, but that wasn't how he chose to remember Kate. He smiled as he replayed memories of the endless teasing they gave each other, and the rivalry they shared as each one tried to outdo the other to impress Gibbs. They were like siblings fighting to get mom and dad's attention. He smiled, his eye was drawn to the window again and he had to do a double-take. She was there – a reflection in the window – Kate. And behind her was another woman. They were both smiling. His heart skipped a beat and he took a sharp intake of breath. The other woman was Jeanne. As quickly as it appeared, the apparition vanished again, leaving Tony with tears streaming down his face. He had so much he still needed to tell her, so much he wanted to say. Lying here feeling sorry for himself wasn't going to help him achieve that. With an almost superhuman reserve of strength he sat upright on the bed and began removing the IVs from his arms. He knew what he had to do.

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Gibbs had made it to the front entrance again. He had no idea where he was going. He stopped to ask at what looked like a reception desk. The nurse there asked him for a few details and began tapping a keyboard in order to track down the patient's whereabouts. Gibbs was so focused on the progress of her search that he didn't notice the hunched figure, struggling to stay upright, walk out of the front doors.

"He's in room 419 on the fourth floor." The nurse had tracked DiNozzo down. He had been moved from Recovery earlier that day into a private room. Gibbs took the elevator. When he got to the nurses' station it seemed that chaos had descended. A doctor was yelling at a nurse, "Well, what do you mean you don't know where he is? You were supposed to check on him every half hour! How can you not notice a man as sick as he is walk out and down the hall?"

Gibbs was intrigued, and he had an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach. He went to find out what was going on but his gut was telling him that he probably already knew the answer. His fears were confirmed. They were talking about DiNozzo. He had vanished from his room and no one seemed to have seen him go. Ducky obviously wasn't the only one who had been practising. Gibbs paid a quick visit to Tony's room to look for clues as to where he might have gone in the middle of the night. His clothes were missing, the torn bag lay on the chair. That meant he had his weapon too. Gibbs took a second to think. 'Where would I go if it was me?' A light bulb went on in his head and he raced for the elevator.

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Somehow, in his weakened state, Tony had managed to dress himself, leave the hospital and hail a taxi cab. He paid the driver, who had expressed concern that maybe he should be going into the hospital as opposed to leaving it, and made his way into the building in front of him. Lucky for him, the security guard was used to his late night visits. Tony often came back to the office to catch up on work when everyone else had gone. He took the elevator down to autopsy. It was in darkness. He was thankful that Ducky more or less stuck to sociable hours of work. The automatic door swished open and Tony made his way to the far end of the room, to the wall of metal doors; the rooms the guests stayed in at 'Mallard's Inn'. He checked the list on the chart which hung at the side of the wall. Number 206. Holding his left side he shuffled over to door number 206. It was in the middle of the wall, at the bottom. With considerable effort, he knelt down in front of, but slightly to the left side of the door. He placed his hand on the handle and took a deep breath. There was a slow hiss as the vacuum of the door's seal was released. Tony gulped. He withdrew the sliding tray upon which lay a body covered with a sheet. On top of it lay a stuffed hippo….A faint smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. Abby. What had she said in the hospital? Bert couldn't come because he was keeping someone else company? Hot tears escaped from his eyes. He'd have to remember to thank Abby for that. He positioned himself to the side of the tray, still on his knees. Gently he pulled back the sheet. She was as beautiful in death as she had been in life. She still looked as though she was sleeping, although the colour was now gone from her face. He leaned over Jeanne's lifeless figure, weeping softly at the love that he had lost. After what had seemed like an age and with pain raging through his body, Tony slumped into a sitting position at the side of Jeanne's resting place. He began talking to her. "I know about the restaurant." He said as if having a normal conversation. "You see?" He wagged his index finger in Jeanne's direction. "You think you can get away with keeping secrets from the DiNozzo, but you can't. I'm a well-trained investigator." He smiled despite the tears which streaked his face. "Actually, they called to confirm….Valentino's, huh? …Thank you." His hand brushed her cheek as he ever so gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Deep in his one-sided conversation, he didn't notice the two figures standing silently at the other end of the room, nor had he heard the gentle swish of the door opening and closing again. Gibbs had collected Ducky on his way once he had figured out where Tony would be going. He figured he might need his help, or at the very least his moral support.

Ducky made as if to take a step towards Tony. Gibbs stopped him. "No, Ducky. Leave him. He needs to do this." His whisper was almost inaudible. They stood in complete silence watching Tony continue his chat with Jeanne. They heard him laugh and cry and they also heard his whimpers from the physical pain of his injuries. After an hour or so Tony came to a conclusion. He forced himself up again, using the tray to drag his beaten and bruised body to a kneeling position. He leaned over, kissed Jeanne on the forehead and whispered, "I love you, Jeanne Benoit. Sleep tight." He kissed her again before replacing the sheet over her face and sliding the drawer back into position. He left Bert resting by her side. No reason for her to be alone in there. He didn't have the strength to close the door. Instead he slid back down into a sitting position.

Gibbs took this as his cue. Slowly he walked over towards the exhausted agent. He pushed the drawer door to and sat down beside Tony, speaking quietly. Ducky left them to it. He smiled inwardly and thought to himself 'Ahhh, the exorcising of demons helps to heal the soul.' They remained there for at least another couple of hours. Eventually, Gibbs got to his feet and began to help Tony up. He was acutely aware that the younger agent had had no pain medication for quite some time now and Tony's grunts and moans as he somehow managed to get upright only served to heighten that awareness. They made their way out of autopsy. As they stood waiting for the elevator, Gibbs, taking most of Tony's weight against him, said, "You'll get through this, Tony." The doors pinged open and they stepped onto the car. Tony leaned most of his weight against the rail inside the elevator.

"I don't know, Boss. How _do_ you get through something like this?" he asked earnestly. Gibbs thought hard before answering, "You any good at building boats?"

A stifled laugh tried to force its way out of Tony's nose. His lips formed a smile and he very slightly shook his head. He allowed his eyes to drift in Gibbs' direction and saw that he too had the makings of a smile on his face. Tony looked back at the closed elevator doors. Gibbs raised his right hand and instead of smacking the younger agent on the back of his head, he merely ruffled his hair. "S'gonna be _alright_, DiNozzo."


End file.
